The Road To Perfection
by Fire Of The Stars
Summary: Perfection doesn't come free. And Hermione is willing to do whatever it takes, even if it kills her. Prequel to Almost Perfect.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Do you ever look back on your life, and wonder what brought you to this point?

Then you know how I feel right now.

I am in the Hospital Wing, for the second time in my life. But this time, it's not something anyone else did. It was my own doing.

I have been unconscious for the past three days. And now I am awake, and looking the man I love in the eye, trying to explain why I let myself get so close to death, all in the name of beauty.

But how do you explain to someone what you, yourself, don't understand?

I'm a smart girl. Just ask anyone in this school. I have more common sense than most girls my age. I am a creature of logic. When all else fails, I turn to books. To facts.

But this, this was different.

Maybe I just delighted in having such control over my body. In a time of war and chaos, any control is a good thing.

At least, I thought so.

But, let me let you in on a secret.

I am not confident. I never have been. From childhood, I was teased. When you're thin and wiry, with bushy hair and big teeth, it's pretty much a given that someone will take advantage of your insecurity.

And I thought it would finally stop when I went through puberty. I thought I, like my mother, would suddenly become a beautiful, graceful creature.

Instead, I became . . .Well, some people call it thickset, nicer people call it curvy.

But I was fat.

Oh, sure, I did have curves, in the right places. My breasts were ample, to say the least.

But I also had pudge. You know what pudge is, don't you? It's when your stomach sticks out like a ball. Some people can get away with it. For some people, it doesn't matter, because they're so gorgeous you can't keep your eyes off of them.

The others spend their life hiding behind baggy clothes and trying every diet imaginable to get rid of it.

And then, there are the Lucky Ones.

That's right, the Lucky Ones.

The Lucky Ones are the ones every girl wants to be. They grace the covers and pages of fashion magazines. They break hearts. They have men hanging on their every word.

They are beautiful, graceful.

And thin.

Girls like this were the girls I wanted to hate. The ones I wanted to blow off as nothing but gorgeous air-heads who would never amount to anything in the real world.

But I couldn't. I just couldn't hate them. Why, you ask.

Because they were everything I wanted to be.

Girls like this were my dreams incarnate.

Girls like Parvati. Like Lavender. Like Ginny. Like Cho. Like Fleur Delacour. Hell, even Pansy Parkinson.

And if you found out that there was a way to become everything you ever wanted, wouldn't you?

Magic could take care of most of it. The accident in fourth year left me with perfect teeth. There are serums for my hair, that make it sleek and smooth and soft.

But no amount of magic can actually make you thinner.

Sure, you can use glamours. But I didn't want to use a glamour. I wanted the fat gone.

I wanted to be one of the Lucky Ones. One of the girls that every guy wanted, and every girl wanted to be.

So when Parvati and Lavender took me under their wing, when they told me their secret, and offered to share it with me, I was delighted.

After all, it was just a diet.

And perfection doesn't come free.


	2. Chapter 1: Thou Shalt Not Covet

Chapter 1: Thou Shalt Not Covet

Her book satchel is so full it is nearly bursting at the seams. It is causing her an ache that is shooting through her shoulders and down her arms. She is walking as fast as she can, trying to get to the common room before the bag breaks, as she is sure it is.

In front of the Fat Lady, she pauses, her breathing labored, and pants, "Cornish pixies."

"Yes, yes, so it is," the portrait says airily, swinging open. She collapses through the door, the bag falling off her shoulders and onto the floor, spilling books and papers. She groans slightly, feeling remarkably close to tears.

It takes her nearly five minutes to get her things straightened, and get back to her feet. Then, frustrated and annoyed, she stalks over to the couch and collapses onto it with a heavy sigh.

Ginny Weasley looks up from her homework. "Evening, Mione."

She runs a hand through her hair, making it even messier than it already is.

"Have you been at the library all night?"

"Yup."

Ginny shakes her head in sympathy. "That essay Snape assigned you sounds killer. Dean was complaining to me about it at dinner."

"Oh," Hermione replies with a dry laugh. "But if it were only that, I would be okay. But no. It's also extra work from Charms and from Transfiguration."

"What on earth are you thinking, taking on extra work?"

"It helps my grade, and really helps me prepare for exams. And, I'm working on becoming a registered Animagus, and that takes a lot of work."

Ginny rolls her eyes. "Hermione, you know I love you, but don't you ever take a break?"

Feeling slightly offended, Hermione narrows her eyes. Ginny sighs and closes her book, getting to her feet.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just tired and stressed. Don't mind me."

--

Hermione stumbles into her dormitory an hour later, her hair dripping and shaking with cold.

Parvati and Lavender's whispers stop abruptly.

"Oh, come on," she says, annoyed. "Don't stop on my account."

"Well, sorry," comes Lavender's sarcastic voice. "But we didn't think Perfect Hermione Granger would care to listen to the idle gossip of two NORMAL teenage girls."

"Well, maybe you're right," she snaps, shrugging off her dressing gown and crawling into her four poster bed.

She sighs and lays completely still, trying to clear her mind. But she can't. Numbers and facts are racing through it at top speed.

And then she hears something that catches her attention on a level she doesn't even want to admit.

"Have you seen Pansy Parkinson lately?"

"Oh, I know. She's so obviously – "

"_So obviously_."

"I mean, does she seriously think no one knows?"

"I know. All you have to do is watch her race for the lavatory after a meal to know."

"Seriously."

"But she's so – "

"I know. I'm definitely jealous."

"Definitely."

"But, it's only so long until we are, too."

"Getting closer every day."

She doesn't want to think about what they are talking about, but it is rather obvious. And she would rather die than admit that she herself has been coveting the slim form that Pansy has aquired this term. The way her collar bones jut out just so, and it is obvious if you were to lift her, she would be almost as light as air.

So she closes her eyes and forces sleep to close in on her.

--

When she wakes up the next morning, it is Saturday, and the room is empty. She has no doubt that Parvati and Lavender have gotten an early start doing whatever it is they do all day. _Most lilely boy hunting. I wonder if they've made any progress on Draco Malfoy yet. _

She crawls out of bed, and begins to undress.

But, as she pulls off her shirt, she finds herself looking down. Looking down and feeling slightly sick.

Her stomach sticks almost straight out. Like a hill. _More like a mountain. And have my thighs always been this big?_

She strips down to her underwear and stands in front of the full length mirror Lavender had brought with her to Hogwarts.

She had always known she was a little on the big side. But now, she is absolutely disgusted by what she sees. Fat is everywhere. What her mother called curves were actually no more than useless extra flesh.

Feeling as though she cannot bear to see it any longer, she hurriedly throws on a black tee shirt and black pleated skirt. _Black is supposed to be slimming. Too bad the skirt reveals my disgusting legs._

_Stop that. You are not fat. Just because you're not a twig. Like anyone would want to look like that anyway._

But the truth is, she would. She really would.

--

Later that night, she is putting the finishing touches on the essay Snape has assigned when Parvati and Lavender come clambering in.

She has never been here when they came in. Not this term, at least.

But she notices that Lavender is carrying what looks like a Muggle scale.

And then they, like she had done that morning, are stripping down to their underwear. Pinching their middles and their thighs and frowning in disappointment. Then, one by one, they step onto the scale.

"One-fifteen," Lavender says, an expression on her face that says she doesn't know whether to feel proud or disgusted.

"That's five less than last week," Parvati says comfortingly, before annnouncing her own weight of one-hundred-ten.

They must catch Hermione looking, because Lavender says kindly,"Would you like to know what you weigh, Hermione?"

She flushes bright red and shakes her head. "Oh, no, I'm not concerned about it."

Parvati rolls her eyes and tosses her braid before unclasping her bra and tossing it to the floor.

"She's obviously scared," she says, her voice disdainful. And Hermione cannot keep her staring in check, because Parvati, to her eyes, is perfect. Her arms are long and graceful, her breasts small and pert and firm, her stomach perfectly flat, her hips widening slightly, and her thighs slender and her legs long.

And the sight must trigger something inside her, because she is standing up, and placing her feet on the scale. Watching the dial move, and come to a halt. Landing on one-thirty-four.

She feels humiliated and ashamed. She feels like she might cry.

"I'm fat," she whispers.

All at once, there are two arms around her shoulders.

"Hermione, we can help you."

"If losing weight is what you want, we know how to do it."

"Just trust us."

But she shrugs out of their grips and crawls back into her bed.

"It's all rubbish anyway," she insists loudly, her voice thick with suppressed tears. "Giving into society's view of beauty. It's disgusting."

But she cannot get the image out of her head of that dial slowing to a stop, or the feeling of shame to fade.


	3. Chapter 2: And It Begins

Chapter 2: And It Begins

She awakens late again the next day. She almost smiles. Until the night before flashes through her mind. And the number on the scale blinks in bold letters, like a billboard. A testament to her shame.

She shakes her head, clearing the image. "Get a grip, Hermione," she says under her breath. "You're becoming as bad as them."

She dresses quickly, avoiding the mirror. Today is a weekend. She can't hide behind her robes. She is wearing Muggle jeans and a plain black tee shirt.

She ambles down to breakfast, where Ron and Harry are already sitting. Ron is, as usual, stuffing his face. Never a pretty picture. Harry, on the other hand, is eating slowly. Pushing his food around on his plate and frowning at the table. But, to her joy, a smile lights his face when she slides into the seat across from him.

The plate in front of her magically fills. Porridge, toast, eggs, bacon. But for some reason, her appetite is absent. She feels eyes on her and glance down the table to see Parvati and Lavender staring at her, their own plates empty. Anger rises in her chest, though she doesn't know why. And then she is eating. Taking bigger bites than she has ever taken in my life. Shoveling the food into her mouth. Like a ravenous animal.

She pauses halfway through and looks up to see Harry and Ron looking confused. One look down the table shows her Parvati and Lavender now pale white and looking sick. The anger quickly dissipates, replaced by the same shame she felt last night. And she is standing up, throwing her bag over her shoulder, and running out of the Great Hall.

--

She runs into the girls' lavatory and into a cubicle. She sinks to the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest and quietly sobbing. Her tears fall onto the legs of my jeans, soaking them. She feels full. Too full. She knows it is ridiculous. She knows it is irrational. But it makes her cry harder.

And then a solution comes to her. She pushes it away at first. But it comes back, more insistent than before. It is the only way she will feel secure.

She turns to face the toilet, leans over it, pulls her hair back behind her head, and pushes two fingers down her throat. It hurts, more than she could ever describe. She gags once. Pushes harder. Gags twice. Feels her stomach heave. Coughs, and a bitter taste floods her mouth as the food resurfaces.

She coughs again, her throat feeling uncomfortably sore and scratchy.

"Hermione?" she hears someone call. That someone being Lavender Brown. "Hermione, we know you're in here."

She sighs angrily and opens the door, stepping out onto the floor.

"What?"

"Ew, Hermione, you look awful."

"You didn't purge, did you?" Parvati asks.

"What?"

"Purge. You know. Throw up your food."

She crosses to the mirror. Her eyes are red, watery, and beady. Her cheeks are flushed. Lavender was right. She does look awful.

"Of course not."

Lavender sighs and walks over to put an arm around her. "You know, Hermione, purging is really a nasty habit. It's not the way to go."

"Oh, and what is?"

They smile. Identical, conspiratorial smiles.

Parvati throws her arm around her shoulder, so they are both huddled around her.

"You have a lot to learn."

--

"Pansy I can believe. But, Ginny? No way. Not possible. She's too smart."

"Hermione, you're so naive," Lavender says, wrinkling her nose. "Just watch her at mealtimes. You'll see."

She sighs. "But isn't it unhealthy?"

"Most things are, if they get out of control. Just keep it under control, and you'll be fine. I mean, neither of us has ever been to the hospital wing, have we?"

"Well," she says, hesitating. "No. But – "

"And have you ever seen us looking weak or sick?"

"No, you two always look great, but – "

"But what, Hermione? You want to lose weight. We can help you."

"Besides," Parvati says, flipping through a magazine. "It's a fact that no guys find girls attractive while they are eating. No one can pull off looking good while stuffing their face. Really, you'll feel powerful. Refusing to become a glutton feels wonderful."

Hermione smiles weakly. _Maybe they are right. They certainly seem happy with this lifestyle. _

"Ok," she says finally. "I'll give it a try."

Lavender hugs her.

"That's my girl."


End file.
